Labyrinth Gate by Kate Elliott Page A

down his cup. It chimed lightly as it touched the saucer. Every head turned to gaze at him, but he looked merely puzzled for a moment. “I’m sorry. I just had a passing thought, but it escapes me now. Have you lived all your lives in Heffield?”
    “Oh, no,” said the youngest. “We travel a great deal.” She had a high voice, not fully formed, but a certain inborn solemnity of bearing.
    “You must have seen a great many interesting places, then.” Sanjay favored her with a smile.
    “Oh, yes,” said the girl, “and at the oddest times, too.”
    “Now, Willa. Don’t confuse our visitors.” Nora turned dark eyes to regard Sanjay with a serious and somewhat withdrawn expression. “Certainly we’ve seen a good many places. It comes from the nature of Mama’s profession, you know. And it has proven to be an excellent source of education for all of us.”
    Sara, the plump one, laughed. Her voice had the infectious and rosy tones of one at ease with the world. “Don’t frighten them, Nora. Travel can be entertaining as well. You are travelers yourselves, I believe.”
    “Yes. We’ve come to consult your mother about a matter of—” Chryse hesitated, but a quick perusal of the sisters’ faces convinced her that there was little these young women did not know about their mother’s work. “A matter of transportation.”
    “Of course,” said Ella. “It is one of Mama’s specialties.”
    “Indeed.” Chryse exchanged glances with her husband.
    A bell-like sound rang suddenly through the air, though there was no evidence of a bell.
    “There we are.” Ella rose. “If you’ll come this way, please.”
    Chryse and Sanjay followed her through a set of double doors and into a tiny anteroom. As they passed through it they heard scraps of conversation from the parlour behind them.
    “How very agreeable—”
    “Mama assured us all along that we had nothing to be ashamed of in that quarter.”
    “—such a pleasant voice, so mellifluous.”
    “—obvious where Willa got her—”
    Ella opened a second set of doors and waved a hand. “If you’ll enter, Mama is waiting.”
    “Thank you,” said Sanjay, and Chryse echoed him.
    As soon as they entered the room the door shut behind them and they found themselves in half-darkness. A single table and two chairs sat in the middle of a featureless room. Facing them was a third chair, and in this chair sat a woman, veiled, in a gown that caught glitters from two lamps set in the wall. The corners of the room remained shadowed.
    “Please be seated.” The woman’s voice was resonant. “Madame Lissagaray. Monsieur Mukerji.” She inclined her head, directing them each to a chair. “I am Madame Sosostris. You have come a great distance to see me.” It was more statement than question.
    Sanjay reached out to touch Chryse’s hand, signaling that she should speak.
    “Yes, we have. As far, we think, as from a different world entirely. Do you understand?” She hoped her voice was steady. Sanjay gave her a little nod, encouragement, half lost in the gloom.
    “I must see the cards.”
    When Chryse laid the deck on the table, the veiled form shifted forward. She placed her dark hands on either side of the deck and contemplated it for a long moment. Sanjay shifted in his chair.
    “The deck is incomplete,” said Madame Sosostris abruptly into the silence.
    “It wasn’t when we got it,” said Chryse. “There were fifty-two cards. But only fifty-one after we—” She faltered. “After we found ourselves here.”
    The veiled head lifted as if to study them. “I am relieved to hear that it was complete when you received it.” There was a quality to her comment, a dry irony as if at a joke they had missed. She laid one hand on the deck and with a deft and practiced movement spread the cards out over the table. “I must cast you first. Please shut your eyes and pick three cards each.”
    Sanjay looked at Chryse and shrugged, shutting his eyes and leaning forward.